Page 99 of Scandalous: Family Ties and Spies

“Right. How should we move him?”

“He needs tae lie flat tae keep his wounds from starting tae bleed again. That’s the worst danger he’s in at the moment. We’ll deal with anything else as it arises.” Wills met Amalie’s confused gaze before he looked back at Jamie and arched his eyebrows.

“She was going to find out eventually,” Jamie said in a crisp voice before he signed a message to someone in the shadows. She heard a woman’s voice that sounded vaguely familiar, and for a moment, she thought it was Ginny. Before she could ask any questions, Jamie tugged hard on her arm and pulled her toward Alie Street.

“I’ll nae leave him,” she snapped.

“Yes, you will. The men need to get him to the cart, and they don’t need you to get in the way.”

“I will nae get in the way.” Amalie glared up at her cousin, who glanced down at her while continuing to drag her away from Valeran.

“You’ll wait for him in the goddamn cart, and when he’s able to, I hope the man paddles you good for disobeying his order.”

“How do you—”

“Because he told me where you were before you came barreling out of White Willow House.”

“But that’s nae possible, Jamie. He was dead.” At her soft denial, Jamie drew up short, his grip tightening on her upper arm. It was the only thing that saved her from stumbling forward to fall flat on her face.

“What the devil are you talking about, Amalie?” Anger still darkened her cousin’s normally cheerful features. It was evident he was furious with her, but she didn’t care. With a shake of his head, Jamie glared down at her.

“I watched the fight from the schoolroom,” she sobbed as the terror of that moment swept over her. “He died in front of my eyes, Jamie. I saw him.”

“Val wasn’t dead, Amalie,” her cousin said in a crisp, sharply-edged voice. “Although the man ought to be from the way you were pounding on the man’s chest like a crazed she-devil.”

“He was in the schoolroom,” she whispered, her eyes watering with tears as her cousin's eyes widened. “He stood right in front of me, Jamie. He said he loved me, then he was gone. I could nae let him go, Jamie. I need him. I dinnae want tae live without him.”

“Christ almighty,” Jamie exclaimed softly. He enveloped her in a warm hug and held as she choked back sobs. “I don’t know how to explain what you saw, my pet, but I swear to you he wasn’t dead.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispered, staring up at Jamie in confusion. “He was there. I didn’t imagine it.”

“I believe you, Amalie, but Val wasn’t dead when I reached him. But when you charged out from the darkness and started beating on the man’s chest, you scared the hell out of me. I was certain he just might die from the way you were pounding on the man.”

The firm conviction in Jamie’s words made her shudder. It didn’t make any sense. Could the an dara sealladh have been showing her a different moment in time? Had she been so terrified, she’d believed it was Valeran saying goodbye? A low groan filled the air behind them. Glancing over her shoulder, Amalie saw two men carrying Valeran on a stretcher, heading toward them. Jamie tugged on her arm once more to drag her forward.

“Come. I stole a cart we can use. It raises far too much suspicion to drive an automobile in this area. And they’ll need my help to get Val onto the floor bed.”

The terse note in Jamie’s voice made her nod as he urged her forward. They moved quickly, and no sooner had Jamie lifted her up into the back of the small wagon, her cousin followed her. He spun about, then leaned over to take the poles of the stretcher at Valeran’s head. Another man lifted up the stretcher at Valeran’s feet and leveled it as he and Jamie carefully eased her husband into the cart.

Jamie hardly had a chance to set Valeran down before Amalie was kneeling at her husband’s side. The cart moved forward with a jerk, and a low groan of pain rolled out of Valeran. Gently taking his hand in hers, she pressed it against her cheek.

“Mouse?”

“Hush,” she murmured. “I am here, mo ghràdh. I am nae going anywhere.”

“I love…you…mouse.” The soft words brought tears to her eyes. Teardrops rolling down her cheeks, she leaned forward to brush her lips against his forehead.

“I love you, too,” she choked out, trying not to sob uncontrollably.

“Don’t cry…sweetheart.”

“How do you know I’m crying?”

“I can smell…your tears, and I…know…it’s not raining,” he said in a hoarse voice, but his mouth twitched with a smile that was more of a grimace of pain than amusement.

The cart hit a rough patch of cobblestone, and it bounced the stretcher off the floor board then back down. Valeran muttered an oath then groaned. Desperate to ease her husband’s pain, Amalie looked helplessly over her shoulder at Jamie. Although her cousin’s expression was serious, he shrugged with indifference.

“If he doesn’t stop groaning, I won’t hesitate to order Johnson to make the horses pull this cart to the hospital at a dead gallop.”